Oh Christmas Tree
by Rookatthedoor
Summary: A story that takes place at Christmas, ora Christmas story...either way Henry helps Vicki with a case. Guest appearances by The Phooka and the Girl in Tatters. No copyright infringement intended. The stuff I made up, belongs to me.


There was a sound a sound of human voices, shouting and calling to each other across the forest.

"Get another rope on her Mack, yeah that's it, Tie her off …that's the way man. We don't want any broken branches; this sucker is perfect, more than tall enough for the City Hall Concourse."

They bound her round and round in their ropes, tight round and still she swayed and tossed as though the wind ran his fingers over her boughs, under the onslaught of their ropes and then the buzzing, gasoline driven fury of their machines.

The sputtering sound of their chainsaws echoed round the hills of the Hockley Valley, bounced off boulder and frozen stream, shook the snow from the trembling branches of her sisters and returned back on the still air as a disconsolate wail when they sliced a wedge from either side of her solid rough-clad trunk.

She bled thick pine scented sap as the final cut was made that severed her from her mother, the Earth. That was the moment she should have fled, that the very moment when she should have crossed over the veil and yet she did not. She clung instead to the memories of the strength of the earth drawn up though spreading root, to the memory of summer sun, to the memory of the tempest or the endless empty vault of the heavens above.

She clung as they dragged her roughly over the ground and loaded her corpse on the bed of their machine. She clung as they slapped each other on the back and admired their handiwork. She clung as their machine carried her away from the boundary and her home.

&&& %%% &&& %%% &&&& %%%%

"Alex, there's a thermos under the seat, pour me a cup of coffee will you?" His hands on the wheel of the flatbed, John McQuarrie, more commonly known to his friends as Mack, leaned forward, peering out the windshield as he headed down Highway Ten. "I can't see but a few feet ahead of me in this blizzard, dark at quarter past four in the afternoon. Damn the visibility is down to nothing."

Alex turned down the heat that blasted from the vents and felt around for the tall thermos. "Just take your time Mack, we're only a couple of hours out of town, as long as we deliver the tree tonight, we'll have played our part." The slight hiss of the seal on the vacuum bottle and the heavenly scent of Veronica's coffee filled the cramped and heated cab of the truck. Alex poured a cup of the still steaming liquid into the lid of the thermos and handed it off to Mack, then poured a portion for himself into his travel mug, sipping it appreciatively he sighed. "You're a lucky man eh? To have a girl like Veronica."

Mack nodded, "Damn straight, eight years married this spring, I've got a heart shaped necklace with a diamond, on layaway at People's eh…for Christmas, she is gonna love it."

He saw the twirling blue lights of a snow plow up ahead on the shoulder and Mack checked his side mirrors and hit his signal in preparation for changing lanes. He glanced into the rear view mirror to catch sight of a translucent woman's face staring back at him, emerald green eyes boring into his…."Holy Christ!"

He swerved and his coffee went flying into Alex's lap, who yelped, "What the hell Mack?"

"D-did you see that? There's a woman on the back of the truck."

"Are you shitting me, man?" Alex turned about to look out the small square back window of the cab as Mack brought the truck to a slow halt on the gravel side of the road. "I don't see nothing 'cept the butt end of the tree." Alex peered out in to the thickening snowfall.

"I'm telling you Alex I looked in the rear view right here…Holy Mary!" Mack's eyes rose to the mirror and there she was…flickering in and out of his sight, her long hair whipping about in the wind and the vibrant green of her gaze on him.

"D-do you see her Alex?" Mack whispered.

"Y-yeah man I do, she must be freezing out there, damn tree huggers, she could really get hurt…and I don't even want to think about our insurance rate…" In a single movement both men opened the truck's doors and climbed down into the slushy snow at the highway's edge to walk round to the bed of the truck.

"Lady, hey Miss, you can't be out here It isn't safe…"

Even in the blizzard conditions they could see that there was nothing but the huge tree roped to the flatbed and bleeding pine tar from the severed trunk into the undisturbed snow around it. Just to be sure they walked twice around the truck while the red blinking hazard light's lit the falling flakes, but there was no pale skinned, green-eyed woman to be found. Eventually they climbed back into the cab and Mack's eyes were nailed to the rear view mirror, but it was empty except for the falling snow.

"That was just too weird Mack," Alex shook off the wet snow that clung to his shoulders and the fringe of his hair, rubbing a hand back and forth over the reddened bald top of his head. "Let's get the hell on the road and get into town."

"You ain't getting no argument from me." Mack put the truck in gear and pulled her back out slowly into traffic, and though both men's eyes moved often to mirror and window, they saw nothing more but the heavy falling December snow.

&&& %%% &&& %%% &&&& %%%%

"They stink, Coreen, every time I get near them, I sneeze," Vicki stood in front of the forced paper whites that were blooming in a huge red pot on the corner of Coreen's desk, and then sneezed loudly as if to prove her point.

"Bless you," Coreen said pulling a tissue from the box with a black lace gloved hand and waving it in Vickie's general direction. "My Mom sent them Vicki; I want to be able to see them while they bloom."

Vicki snatched the tissue from Coreen's fingers, "Fine, I'll just keep the door of my office closed."

She turned as she reached her office door and glared at her dark haired assistant. "And no more of those frigging peppermint scented plug in air fresheners, you hear me? Frigging place smells like Santa's work shop," She muttered as she turned away.

The door closed behind her and Coreen tossed her black hair over her shoulder and rolled the kohl lined eyes, mouthing the words…"smells like Santa's workshop!"

She knew that Vicki's Scrooge act was only a cover for the soft mushy center inside the detective. Coreen was, in spite of her Goth appearance, nobody's fool. Her dark eyes watched constantly and she knew much more about Vicki than Vicki probably realized. No, the tough act, _though it wore pretty thin sometimes, _Coreen had to admit, the tough act was just a front. Was there any other way to explain the canceled checks she had seen to the Bathurst Street Mission, or the big bag from Toy's R' Us, in the supply closet for the Toys for Tots drive?

Scrooge wouldn't have the list of suggested donations to the Food Bank on his desk tucked under the Albert's file, would he? Or would Coreen have found Scrooge's name on the soup kitchen's volunteer list when she went to add her own, like she had Vicki's? No she wasn't fooled by the gruff act Ms. Nelson put on, not one little bit.

The door at the street level slammed, and there was the sound of booted feet on the stairs, then the jingling of bells as the office door opened. The chapped red face of a rotund middle-aged man appeared, worried, slightly embarrassed, unsure, as he pulled of his gloves and cleared his throat.

_Henry is right, _Coreen thought, you can tell a lot just by looking. She remembered the evening that Henry had described to Coreen how to tell exactly what Vicki was thinking just by studying her expressions and posture. Vicki, who listened to the whole thing while they had looked her up and down, had not been amused…

"Can I help you?" Coreen smiled at the memory of Vicki's ire and how Henry had placated her.

"I hope so, I don't know, maybe…" The man twisted his gloves in his hands, nervous, "The ad says no case too strange right? This is Nelson Investigations?"

"Yes, this is Nelson investigations, and that's what the ad says. Why don't you come in and let us know why you think we might be able to help?

&&& %%% &&& %%% &&&& %%%%

Fifteen minutes later Mr. Ben Matheson, city maintenance worker and recent inductee to the world of the paranormal, sat nursing a cup of coffee in the client chair in Vicki's office. Coreen had planted herself on the aged sofa ostensibly to take notes though the pad of paper was sitting neglected on the seat beside her.

"It is the damned eeriest thing I've ever seen, and I'm no freaking pansy, but I can tell you this, I have a hard time getting out there on the ice on my own now after dark. And I ain't the only one who's seen her either. Eddie Finch, he does the garbage disposal and the windows, poor guy near had a heart attack, had to take sick leave until the New Year." Ben Paused for a breath and ran a work roughened hand over his bald head. "And the cops, the cops they can't do nothin'! No evidence of foul play is what they told us, but she's there, I've seen her, felt her… Anyways there was one detective, said I should contact Nelson investigations so…"

"Let me guess, tall, blonde, beige trench coat?" Vicki asked dryly. And Coreen had to smile.

"Yeah, big guy, Italian last name, uh, Cell somethin'."

Vicki nodded, "Can you tell me exactly what happened to bring the cops to the Concourse?"

Matheson sat forward in his chair and with very little prompting the story emerged.

He'd had been running the Zamboni, sitting high up in the seat and grooming the open air ice rink that was the flooded Concourse at Toronto City hall. It was well after midnight and the rink was closed, though he'd had to chase off a couple of teens who had jumped the gates. The machine moved slowly over the rink, scraping and resurfacing the ice where the blades of thousands of skates had marred it over the course of the short December days.

He had kept the giant tree at one end, lit, as a little treat to himself while he drove up and down the rink in a slow and methodic pattern, reaching the far end and then turning the ponderous machine and heading back towards the twinkling giant.

He had to admit he and the rest of the team had done a great job lighting the mammoth thing, from the golden star at the top to the thousands and thousands of lights that adorned it. It had been worth the freezing cold fingers and ears when he had heard the cheer go up from the crowd when they first lit her up.

He brought the machine right up to the edge directly in front of the tree and then turned it and started the other direction. A flicker of movement on the ice caught his eye, too fast to follow, a figure maybe, seen in his peripheral vision, moving at the edge of the rink. _There and gone._ A woman he was pretty sure, the impression of long flying hair.

_Damn_, he had thought, _can't they even wait until I finish…?_ There, there she was again… at the far end of the rink a split second vision of her disappearing behind a column. He had called out to her then. "Hey Lady, the rink is closed until morning, you'll have to come back tomorrow." There had been no answer, though he had glimpsed her twice more, ghosting about the perimeter of the rink, tall and pale, the impression of wild dark hair and trailing floating flimsy fabric. He had pursed his lips and in a moment of decision he had shut down the "Zambi" and climbed down to the ice.

Ben Matheson was a man who believed people should follow the rules. _She shouldn't be out here he thought, running around half naked in this cold, she'll catch her death…_He meant to find her and tell her to go home. He made it about twenty feet across the ice when he saw her. Right below his feet, shifting and moving, trapped below the ice, pale skin and tangled hair and blazing green eyes that seemed to look though him…

Her pale lips opened and no sound came out though she seemed to reach out pale thin arms to him, how he didn't know, trapped as she was in the ice. Stumbling back away from her, he landed on his back in an undignified sprawl on the ice and as she moved beneath the surface towards him, he scrambled slipping and sliding away, climbing back up onto the machine, trying to get off the ice that suddenly seemed unsafe. He sat on the island that was the "Zambi" and watched as she moved in slow circles around the machine. Like a swimmer floating on their back beneath the frozen surface, the smell of pine tar was all around him and he had near dropped his phone, as his trembling fingers called 911.

"Of course she was gone by the time they showed up," Matheson frowned, "faded away to nothing, and me sitting like a friggin' idjit, afraid to get down from the machine."

Coreen's eyes met Vicki's but she shook her head slightly.

"They didn't believe you, I take it," Vicki said unnecessarily.

"Would you?" Matheson asked with a sardonic twist of his lips. "I sure as hell wouldn't, if I hadn't seen it myself. The ice on the rink is just over an inch thick, there is no way there was a woman under there, but I'm telling you, I saw what I saw…and Eddie, turning around to find her there standing behind him and reaching out for him, that near put him in the emergency room. And there's been other things…Cops, can't do nothin' and so, I came to see you. I need to know what this is before someone else gets hurt. Can you help me?

"It's a five hundred dollar retainer and five hundred a day thereafter," Vicki said, "You sure you want to know that badly?"

Matheson swallowed, "I got fifteen hundred bucks in the Christmas fund and the guys all said…"

Vicki held up her hand, "Look, keep the fund money, I'll check it out as a Christmas freebee, if it looks like serious work, then we'll talk." She rose from behind her desk and reached out her hand, "leave your contact info with Coreen here and I'll be in touch."

Matheson rose and took her hand , shaking it firmly, _he didn't look like the kind of man who "saw" things, whatever that means, cause I sure don't look like the kinda person who, "sees shit" either and yet somehow I always seem to end up in the middle of it…. Coreen on the other hand, she looks like she could eat spirits and ghosts and the walking undead for breakfast._

"Thank you Miss Nelson, I have never been afraid to be alone on the job before but I am now. Thank you."

When Coreen had seen him out she bounced back into Vicki's office all Goth cheer and excitement, _which is a bit of an oxymoron_ Vicki thought sourly, "So, I'm laying my wager on poltergeist… yeah or maybe some kind of restless walking dead…maybe Zombie, how cool a Christmas…" Her dark eyes sparkled and danced. "Oh…maybe a dead ice skater or…"

Vicki raised her hand for silence, "Enough Coreen, I'll do a bit of a stakeout tonight, see if maybe Henry will lend a hand and we'll see. It's probably some weird techno prank or something. By the way, those invoices aren't going to mail themselves Missy." The whole time she had been speaking she had been slowly shooing the Goth, torn black stockings, leather bustier and all out of her office. "I'll give Mike a call and see what he has, in the meantime…back to work."

She closed the door and Coreen, still smiling, turned and headed back to her desk, the invoices and the filing waiting.

&&& %%% &&& %%% &&&& %%%%

Henry took a chance, linking his arm though Vicki's as they walked up to the entrance to the City Hall Concourse. When he had risen this evening the air had had the cool crispness about it that only December brought. Listening to his voice messages, he had been pleasantly surprised to hear Vicki's voice and her request for his company on a stakeout this evening. In fact he had been intrigued when she had requested he dress warmly and that he may wish to bring ice skates if he had them. Now he understood why, fantasies of Vicki in a revealing figure skating outfit aside. There were no sequins in attendance, just soft blue jeans, the familiar leather bomber and a pair of well worn figure skates over her shoulder. Fortunately, he had found his own pair in his storage locker, so he wasn't entirely unprepared.

He had spent the earlier evening working on his Christmas tree, a potted blue spruce, no more than three feet in height and trimmed with the care of a bonsai, perfect in proportion. It had lived on his balcony for the last three years; this was the fourth time it would serve as his tree of memories. He had done nothing more than retrieve it from outside and set it in the decorative ceramic container, water it thoroughly and set it on the table before his balcony doors. He had fetched the chests containing his ornaments from the locker and set them close by. Then his agent Sandi had called about a book signing for the new novel and it had taken over an hour to get everything arranged. By then the time had come to dress and leave, giving him a few minutes for a quick hunt before driving to Vicki's and then the whirlwind explanation of the current case in the close warmth of the Jag on the way here.

The sky threatened snow; it had that peculiar whiteness to it that gave the world an odd, diffused, half light even though it had been dark for hours. Henry pulled Vicky more tightly to him as they walked, having recently fed, he had at least a little body warmth to share. The rink was soft lit, all the better to show the huge Christmas tree that held court at one end. It glittered and glowed, all twinkling lights, while the crowd of holiday skaters moved and glided about the rink.

Now they sat on the bleacher seats at the edge of the rink, donning their extra socks and skates while watching the skaters move around the ice.

"Have to say Hank, didn't picture you for the skating type." Vicki smiled as she pulled up hard on the laces of her skates tightening them methodically. _Not that you've been skating in …how many years Nelson? You're a great one to talk. I hope I don't fall on my ass as soon as I get out there. God my fingers are already freezing, I can't wait to get my gloves back on._

"Hockey," Henry replied, stamping his foot into the skate to settle it and beginning to lace them. "The Toronto Writer's Guild has an amateur team, we would play evening games, challenging the Engineers out of U of T or the ROM. They had a great team, all just in fun of course." He turned and flashed her a boyish grin. "We usually won."

"Uh-huh, I'll just bet you did." She double knotted the laces at the top of her skate, pulled her pant leg down over them and felt along the bench for her gloves. "So Henry, you… umm, you know, sense anything?"

"Beyond the scent of popcorn and hot chocolate you mean?" Henry leaned close and huffed in her scent. "And the delectable scent of one of Toronto's finest detectiv.…"

"You know what I mean. Can you sense anything…dead."

Henry's eyes grew soft focused for a moment in a way that wasn't even remotely human…"No nothing dead, or undead, nothing from the spirit realm, no demon, no…"

His eyes suddenly swung to the store fronts on the far side of the rink, a row of huge panes of glass, behind each of which was a colorful Christmas window display.

Vicki followed his gaze, "Thinking of doing a little Christmas shopping Henry?" They had walked the Concourse earlier and though she could make out nothing beyond the few skaters that swam in and out of her restricted field of vision, she remembered what was there. It was an adaptation she was scarcely aware of making.

"There Vicki, there. Can you not see her? Tall, pale. There, her reflection, moving over the glass." He lifted a hand and pointed at the figure he saw, her hair a twisting, twining cloud about her and the diaphanous fabric she wore wrapped about her lithe form billowing and trailing out behind her. No visible woman walked, just her image passing over the glass and as it moved from one pane to the other, each in turn shattered the surface frosting over with thousands of tiny cracks. Then her reflection was gone.

On the rink, heads turned to the cracking sound of the glass as the skaters glided to the edge of the rink to watch. Heads turned the other way as the tree at the end of the rink began to toss as though gale force winds blew through the Concourse, though the air was completely still. There were a few small screams from the skaters as they started to move en masse towards the entrance to the rink.

"What the hell is happening Henry?" Vicky grabbed his arm and then all hell broke loose on the ice as the overhead banks of halogen lights began to burst one after another, showering down sparks and glass on the skaters below. Pandemonium reigned and the crowd surged across the ice in the dark…

&&& %%% &&& %%% &&&& %%%%

Crowley's tongue lashing still ringing in his ears, Mike Celluci made his way slowly across the ice, the slick soles of his Italian leather shoes slipping and sliding on the icy surface.

"A stampede of skaters with multiple injuries, two in serious condition at City General, from a site that you cleared on a "crank" complaint. You and your partner get your asses down there and find out what the hell went on!" Crowley had had him in her office not a minute after the call came in.

It did nothing to improve his temper when he saw Vicki and the Count out there on the ice talking with the uniforms, or the fact that despite the fact of their cautious steps Dave's feet went out from under him and he grabbed at Celluci in order to save himself. They both nearly went down, a moment of whirling arms and sliding feet while Mike fought for his balance and then of course Captain Canine glided over and grabbed Dave's elbow, somehow managing to steady both men.

"Thanks man." Dave wheezed, "I thought we were going down for sure."

"Happy to be of service detective, why don't you just hold on to my arm and I'll escort you the rest of the way."

Sighing with a heartfelt relief, Dave's fingers clamped around Henry's forearm. With an irrepressible grin Henry held out his crooked arm to Celluci. "Would you care to accompany us to the dance floor, Constable?" Dave guffawed, a wheezing snort of a laugh but Celluci slapped his arm away with a frown.

"I don't need your, help Fitzroy," he groused.

Henry inclined his head in a graceful acceptance and moved away, easily balancing Dave's weight and leaving Celluci to make his own tenuous progress behind them. By the time Mike had covered the distance to the group, the vampire was skating in lazy circles around them while Vicki was talking to the uniforms and Dave was scribbling in his notebook.

"Vicki, an evening of skating with Fitzroy? I pictured him more the wine and…_dine_, kinda guy."

"Hello to you too, Mike." Vicky removed her glasses and massaged the bridge of her nose, the dim light making her head ache. "Henry and I were on a stake out for a client, when the whole crowd decided they wanted off the ice all at once, then the lights went out and it got pretty wild."

Henry ever sensitive to Vicki's discomfort, skated closer, stopping abruptly beside the Detective is a fine spume of ice crystals that clung to Mike's pant leg and coat. "Victoria has already given her statement detective, it has been a long evening and cold, can't you compare notes with her tomorrow? I'd like to get her someplace warmer, with a cup of hot buttered rum in her hand."

"Yeah I'll just bet you would…Capta….Fitzroy." Mike shot back.

Henry was right next to the Detective in a moment, his smile cold, "What…exactly are you …implying…Celluci?"

Dave grabbed his partner's arm. "Hey, ease up big guy…this ain't the place ."

"Can it! The two of you!" Vicki barked. Normally she would have reamed Henry a new one, for being all considerate and gentlemanly but it had been a long and frustrating evening so far. She was freezing, her teeth were chattering and she couldn't even feel her toes, laced tight inside her skates. Her head ached unmercifully and the proof of the limitations of her disease weighed heavily on her. _I didn't really see much of anything, except the side of Henry's coat as he sheltered me from the shower of falling glass and sparks, _she _thought_.

Mike broke eye contact with the vampire and stuffed his hands in his trench coat pockets, pulling it around him. Henry spun away across the ice in a graceful arc returning eventually to Vicki's side.

"Look Mike, can we talk about this t-tomorrow at the office, I s-share whatever I have then, H-Henry and I have both given our statements and I really w-w-would like to get somewhere w-w-warmer." The chattering of her teeth was beginning to make her stutter.

"Okay Vic, I'll bring by some Chinese and we'll have a late lunch." Mike put a hand on Vicki's arm and couldn't help but feel pleased about the tightening of the vampire's jaw. "Talk to you tomorrow, get your ass outta here and someplace warm."

He watched as the vampire and Vicki skated off the ice, disappearing beyond the boards at the perimeter and then Mike turned back to the uniform. "So what have you got? Please tell me it's something good because Crowley is going to chew my ass off otherwise. Some kind of terror group ploy… or a prank gone wrong?"

&&& %%% &&& %%% &&&& %%%%

"A Dryad, really?" Coreen's voice had approached the fingernails on chalkboard range now and Vicki fought the urge to cover her ears with both hands. The girl should have to come with a warning label,she thought wincing. "A Dryad…forest spirit, tree spirit, not a ghost at all but a part of the Faery realm." Coreen punched up a search on the word on her computer scanning the screen.

"That's what Henry said. He saw her right before the whole place went haywire. It…she…matches the description that Matheson gave us, beautiful female, pale green skin and dark green hair, brilliant green eyes and the whole 'I smell like Christmas' pine sap scent going on." Vicki shook her head, "One very pissed off Dryad. He thinks that's her tree that is down there at the City Hall all decked out and dead."

Coreen raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips, "Yeah I can see how that might make a Dryad angry. Oh, listen to this. The Dryad is thought to be a Faery creature that inhabits a tree or wanders the woods. Nature spirits, tied to a location or a specific tree. Usually pictured as female, they are considered to be protectors of the trees and forest."

"Yeah that's pretty much what Henry said." Vicki frowned. "We need to get in touch with," Vicki looked down at her notes, "R&M Tree Services, they're the guys who provided the tree; we need a location, where exactly they got the tree from."

Coreen's dark eyes followed Vicki, "I'm on it; Henry wants to see the spot?"

Vicki nodded, "Yup. See if you can arrange it," Vicki said as she turned back to her office to call Mike, she slumped in her chair inhaling deeply the scent of peppermint and frowning at the scented Christmas candle on the filing cabinet.. "I am so not looking forward to "sharing" our theory with Mike."

&&& %%% &&& %%% &&&& %%%%

So it was that Vicki ended up, flashlight in hand, with Henry as they made their way arm in arm through the dark forest. Henry moved with an easy grace that left her feeling like a sack of potatoes on legs. Henry held the map the trucking company had provided and moved steadily towards his goal, careful to stay at Vicki's side, while appearing to allow her to move on her own.

Truth to tell he didn't really need the map, the scent of magic was all around, and he had sensed it as soon as they had pulled the car over to the shoulder of the highway and opened the doors. It was like a beacon, the place where the veil between the worlds had been ruptured. It sent out waves of injury and trauma, he needed no map, he could have found the wound with his eyes closed.

"There" he said, pointing directly ahead to the stump that protruded from the ground. This is the place. His eyes darkened though the violence had long passed and there was no feeling of current danger in the air. The snow was trampled down still with needles and discarded branches lying all around.

Vicki drew her arm away from Henry's and clomped to one side, using the flashlight to pan the ground before her. "Yes so that was the truckers sighting of our "little green lady"…they thought she was some environmentalist gone mad…" she continued on their earlier conversation, as though they were still in the car and not in the quiet of the frozen woods. "So the idea is that some of her little friends will have sent out a search party for her…the brownies or the elf princesses?"

"Vicki, you know and I know that the other side is real. I fail to understand why you feel you must scoff at things that choose to remain hidden. You of all people should know…"

"Maybe because over black bean chicken this afternoon I had to tell Mike it was a forest Fairy that caused the riot at City Hall last night…that might be why…I guess I just kinda caught the scoffing from him."

Henry touched the stump and then brought his glove clad fingers to his nose, breathing in the scent of pine tar and magic. "Celluci knows nothing, or chooses to know nothing. We won't have to wait long, they will know I am here."

"They? What do you mean they…" Vicki began…

"Happy winter tide to thee, Queen of Summer." There came a mellow, deep voice from out of the darkness. There was no sound but the soft tinkling of bells and charms and then the sound of slow heavy hoof falls on the frozen earth as the great flame-eyed, black horse moved out of the nothingness between the trees. The Phooka's huge head bobbed up and down in acknowledgment of their presence, his voice sounding in their minds. "Nightwalker, you have news for us?"

"Do you know where she went?" The rag and ribbon clad child that perched up on the Phooka's back called out. A wild head of dreadlocks and thin brown arms and legs, charms and bells and startling green eyes, The Girl in Tatters swung down from the horse landing with a thump on the ground. At less than three feet tall, her sharp elfin features looked up at Vicki…"Do…you…know…where…she…went?" She spoke with exaggerated care and slowly as though Vicki were a dim wit. Glancing at Henry, she smiled showing sharp white teeth. "She doesn't seem like she's gotten any brighter, Nightwalker."

Henry had to stifle a laugh at the look of outrage on Vicki's face.

"Hush little one, the Queen of Summer is unused to our ways, she will think thee rude." The Phooka's deep voice seemed to echo about the trees though the horse; thankfully did not appear to actually be speaking. _Because that would be just too Mr. Ed,_ Vicki thought. Indeed the Girl in Tatters did seem reproved for she bowed low until she was but a brown lump of rags on the snowy ground. It was then that Vicki noted that the Fae was barefoot and her toes curled up in her own boots at the thought.

"Have you news for us Master Nightwalker, news of our lost one? I cannot think that you would be haunting the Boundary on this winter tide night, were it otherwise." The Phooka's great head bobbed up and down in a fall of black silken mane, his flaming eyes holding Henry and Vicki in a glowing gaze.

Vicki was seized by the sudden desire to clamber up onto that wide back and to dig in her heels, urging the giant black beast through the snowy night…The Girl in Tatters giggled and looked sharply at the Phooka, showing fangs every bit as sharp as Henry's own in her smile. Henry grasped Vicki's elbow firmly, holding her back from the edge of enchantment.

"I do," Henry said, "and we are here to seek your advice and your help, Phooka."

"Indeed?" The Phooka moved forward in a solid, thumping of hooves and the swishing of a midnight tail. "Tell me your story Nightwalker and perhaps we may help each other."

&&& %%% &&& %%% &&&& %%%%

Vicki came awake with a start, the air from the heater blowing over her and she leaned back, belted into the Jag's passenger seat. There was a long moment of disorientation and then she turned to the vampire, "What the hell happened back there, one minute I was standing there being insulted by the rag bag and then the next …."

"The Phooka is a Fae, Victoria, you just fell prey to his…enchantment." Henry turned his eyes away from the road and smiled that damned heartwarming smile of his, "I held onto you though, I was pretty sure that a ride ending in the lake was not what you had planned as the evening's entertainment."

She twisted and struggled to sit up, slipping her hand down beside the seat and feeling for the seat adjustment levers. When she was in a more or less upright position and Henry had handed over her glasses, she felt slightly less disadvantaged.

"I don't remember a damn thing after the Phooka and his little sidekick showed up. Did you know that …that kid is running around without any shoes?"

Henry grinned, his fangs slipping into view, "The Girl in Tatters is no child, Victoria, any more than I am a young man. She is a Fae, ancient and powerful in her own right."

"Yeah, yeah and you guys have matching dental work. Your point is?"

"They have agreed to help us Vicki, tomorrow night. They have agreed to help us get the Dryad back where she belongs."

"What the hell time is it anyways," she focused on the red glowing lights of the dash, trying to bring the glowing numbers into focus.

"Just after two, we are almost back in the city, I'll drop you off at home and then… then I have a few things to prepare." He turned and smiled at her again…"Unless you'd like me to just drive straight home and you could…"

"Eyes on the road Mister…my place will be fine." She reached to turn down the fan of the car's heater…a slight smile on her face.

&&& %%% &&& %%% &&&& %%%%

The rink was dark…the tree lights long extinguished in the still hours before the cold winter dawn. Beyond the taped off confines of the Concourse the city slumbered, his city, yet the vampire moved with the sure confidence of his kind.

The Phooka and the Girl in Tatters had told him what he needed … what she needed and he skated slowly out onto the ice now. He appeared a sole dark figure in the empty expanse of the rink, with the small potted blue spruce balanced in his arms.

He set it at the center of the ice, trimmed and cared for, perfect and healthy, his tree of memories. A tiny relative of the mammoth tree at the end of the rink, the giant whose branches began to shift and sway as though the air or the Concourse was still.

Henry skated in slow circles, graceful as ever, waiting, the words of the Phooka and his diminutive companion circling in his mind. He knew what it was to be lost. He knew what it was to be separated from all you knew, thrust into a world that was new and strange. He knew what it was to have to leave your old body behind and step into a new existence. It touched his immortal heart, and in this the season celebrating the Savior's birth and the mercy of the Lord on us all…could he, Henry Fitzroy, be less than merciful? So he waited, calm and graceful, moving through the darkness that was his element… waited to be merciful.

It didn't take long; she appeared first in the corner of his eye, flitting in and out of existence at the edge of the rink. He could feel her despair; her loneliness and her anger… feel her confusion. She materialized fully at the end of the ice, beneath where the giant tree stood on the platform above her, still and watching him, her arms folded over her breasts. The tree above her tossed and creaked and her hair lifted in a breeze that he could not feel.

He skated in an easy circle around the tiny blue spruce, feigning a lack of awareness, and then she was gone, the tree above her stilling. Suddenly he could hear her coming; hear the rupturing of the ice in a frosted trail as her reflection skittered over the surface towards him.

He halted in a spume of ice crystals beside the tiny tree watching as she hovered below his feet. She seemed to float in deep water below the frozen surface… staring up at him, her green eyes were ablaze. She reached towards him and he held his ground. She swirled up out of the ice as a fog materializing before him with a disconsolate wail, full of loss and fear, full of grief.

His eyes back and his fangs exposed Henry spoke the words.

"Be welcomed keeper of the forest, new life awaits thee. A new home tended and loved… The Phooka bids thee return to thy place, straddling the border between the worlds…bids thee to return to your home. He has sent me to assist you."

The Dryad's eyes held his black gaze for a long moment and then dropped to the tiny tree at his side…and a beatific smile filled her face. She simply vanished, fading away to nothing but the fresh scent of pine in the air.

&&& %%% &&& %%% &&&& %%%%

The elevator was warm after the cold outside air and they could see their reflection in the polished wood of the interior.

"You s-sure you have no idea why Henry wanted us to r-rent a pick up t-truck?" Coreen asked and chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I haven't been getting on your nerves all that much have I? I mean all those shovels and things he wanted…"

"Told you Coreen, no idea." Vicki said shortly. "Last night he said that the Phooka and his freaky friend have agreed to help us …" She shrugged as the doors slid open at Henry's floor, pulling her keys from her pocket. "I wasn't sure the guy was going to let you drive it off the lot."

Coreen crowded behind her as Vicki halted in Henry's doorway, "He is most likely still …uh…out of it so give him a minute Coreen, eh?"

"Um-huh," the Goth slipped past her boss and into the darkened condo, then drew in a long breath, the air heavy with the fresh scent of evergreen. "Um. Vicki?"

"I see her…" Vicki's voice was flat as she stood watching the Dryad, hovering in the doorway of Henry's sanctum. _Ethereal and beautiful and okay … downright sexy _Vicki thought. Henry appeared behind the Fae at that moment, grinning and sleep-tousled.

"So Henry…care to explain just exactly what… this is about?"

Coreen regarded the Dryad curiously, "You got her to relocate, right?" she asked Henry reaching out her hand to the Fae.

"Yes, actually it was the Phooka's suggestion; she has accepted my Tree of Memories as her new home." Henry smiled, and though Vicki tried to be annoyed, his grin was infectious.

"She can't be living in your condo Mister."

"No, I realize that Vicki." The Dryad drifted behind Henry and wrapped her arms around him possessively, resting her chin on his shoulder and staring at Vicki with sharp emerald eyes. He raised a hand and patted her arm in a familiar fashion that set Vicki's teeth on edge.

"And that's why we need the pickup truck…" Coreen concluded.

&&& %%% &&& %%% &&&& %%%%

The snow was crunchy underfoot, that squeaking compacting noise that says it is truly cold. They had returned to the Hockley Valley.

The hour drive crowded in the cab of the pickup with her thigh pressed against Henry's and watching the face of the Dryad in the rear view mirror had been warm and close and noisy as Coreen had kept up a steady stream of questions. Henry had answered patiently and Vicki had been just as happy that the Fae had stayed with the little tree that hosted her in the bed of the pickup. She was, however, just about ready to strangle her assistant.

Now she was freezing, standing in the middle of the snowy woods, the skin inside the layers of her clothing covered with gooseflesh after the heat of the truck cab. Vicki and Coreen stood watching Henry make short work of digging through the frozen earth, making a hole big enough to receive the little blue spruce.

There came a change in the air, something indefinable, as the vampire worked and even Coreen fell silent. One moment they stood in the dark woods north of Toronto and then the next, they seemed to be in a place of magic. It seemed that the trees surrounding were alert… seemed to lean towards them and high above, the moon came clear of the clouds, flooding the snow with a bluish light.

There was a clatter of shells and bells and the heavy thumping of slow sedate footfalls…

"I don't think that's Santa…" Coreen whispered, her eyes growing round. She edged towards Henry even though the vampire was already fully visible, and he took her arm. His voice was full of compulsion as he said, "You will stay with me, you will not leave my side until I tell you that you may."

Coreen nodded woodenly, and Henry dragged her with him over to where Vicki stood gazing blindly off into the middle distance, the flashlight lax in her hand and painting a golden circle of warmth on the snowy ground. He took her firmly by the elbow as the huge horse form of the Phooka made his way between the trees, his diminutive companion skipping along beside him.

"Let go Henry, I'm not falling for that again." Vicki hissed jerking her arm out of the vampire's grasp. He let her though his black eyes were trained on the Fae as they moved into the clearing. The dryad swirled into being, skimming over the ground amid the three trunks circling about the Phooka and the Girl in Tatters in a graceful, silent dance. All of the trees around them rustled and moved though there was not even a breath of wind and though Coreen's mouth dropped open, but not a single sound emerged.

"You brought her home, you brought her home…clever Nightwalker…" The tiny Fae capered and danced about in her excitement, the tinkling of tiny bells and charms sounding in the cold air. She came close to Coreen and leaning in sniffed loudly, showing a wide fanged grin. "Ooooo, this one has some of us in her…far back and buried deep, but we're there…" she poked Coreen with a tiny finger, "yes, yes, we're there deep inside."

The Phooka's fiery eyes regarded the girl, "Yes she has the blood, it will always out, one way or another." The huge head nodded up and down, "Are you prepared to complete the ritual to return our little sister to her rightful place as guardian of the veil, Nightwalker?"

The Girl in Tatters withdrew a little knife from beneath her ragged clothing, bronze and ancient and sharpened to an edge.

"Ritual?" Vicki asked, a niggling suspicion growing in her mind.

Henry sighed, "Nothing major Vic…Queen of Summer, a little nick, a few drops of blood in the resting place of the tree…"

"Threefold," the Girl in Tatters capered about, brandishing the knife, "Threefold to root her to the Boundary where she belongs." She grinned, that sharp smile, white in her brown face. "Human blood, Fae blood, and the blood of the eternal Child of the Night…"

Coreen stuttered a bit as she said, "The blood of the Day, the blood of the Night and the blood of the world between, the twilight realms."

"Oh Nightwalker this one is clever, not like the other one." The Girl in Tatters nodded towards Vicki.

"You are right, our little cousin." The Phooka's voice sounded, though he was no longer a horse, but rather a slight young man, pale skinned with a the twining horns of the goat protruding from the ragged mop of his black hair. Clad in a leather jerkin and black leggings and boots he stepped smoothly forward. Only the melodious voice and the golden fiery eyes remained the same.

"Fine," Vicki said, "Fine, but I hold the knife…or no deal."

Solemnly the Girl in Tatters, handed the blade over, hilt first into Vicki's keeping.

It took only a few moments, a quick slice to the Phooka's palm and he tipped his hand to allow a few drops to flow into the prepared hole. Then Henry's hand in hers, cool and pale and she sliced quick and clean, he did the same adding his blood to the ritual, the cut closing rapidly and disappearing. She gritted her teeth and sliced a shallow cut in her own palm and when her blood had been added to the others, Henry brought her hand to his lips, laving and stopping the flow. The air grew warmer and humid and the wavering sheet of the boundary sprang into being, twisting away through the trees.

Between them they lowered the tiny tree into the ground and shoveled the earth back around it, tamping it down securely…

When they were done, Henry took hold of Vicki's arm and Coreen's arm and backed away, watchful. The Phooka and The Girl in Tatters stood and watched the boundary twist and turn, like the play of Northern lights across the sky. "All is once more as it should be, Nightwalker, and once again we owe you our thanks…fear not for your companions this Yuletide night."

Then they turned and taking his companion's hand the Phooka and Girl in Tatters passed through the Veil and were gone.

Vicki's eyes were drawn to the Dryad, who hovered green and haunting over the tiny tree, and as she reached out towards them, Vicki turned and much to his surprise, wrapped the Vampire in her arms…._not a chance sister…this one is mine…_

_FIN_


End file.
